Kisses in the Snow
by CaskettFanGirl
Summary: A series of drabbles from a 31 day OTP drabble challenge my friend and I are doing. She found it on tumblr- crediting giraffe-tier on tumblr for making up the challenge. 31 chapters, one each day. Each chapter ends with a kiss, or at least I'll try. Hope you enjoy. Don't forget to review.
1. Sweaters

Together, they walked down to the tree that morning- Christmas morning. John, excited, had woken Sherlock early. Well, "early". It was eight in the morning.

John had always loved Christmases. The whole family was together and happy, and not to mention they always had amazing meal for dinner.

Sherlock, on the other hand, had always disliked Christmases. He didn't get the point of it. They didn't need any more gifts than what they already had, and most of the gifts they got were useless to him anyway. He wasn't interested in the foolish toys and assorted rubbish he was given.

But regardless, Sherlock let John drag him into the living room, hand in hand in their pyjamas, where John grabbed a gift from under the tree and handed it to Sherlock.

Nervously, John watched Sherlock unwrap it. When Sherlock saw what it was, his nose wrinkled at the sight. He pulled out a classic awful Christmas sweater, and said to John, "Really, John? This is awful."

John frowned to himself, disappointed that he hadn't gotten Sherlock something he would appreciate more. But when he looked up to see Sherlock grinning as he pulled a gift out from under the tree for John.

Confused, John opened it, and when he saw what it was, his grin couldn't have been wider.

"Now we match," Sherlock grinned as he leaned close into John for a kiss.


	2. Snowball Fights

**A/N: Two chapters in one day? Why the hell not. But this will be the only time you get to chapters in one day.**

**Here, have some more adorableness. **

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Sherlock paused as he felt something rather small and soft pelt his coat. He turned around to see John grinning widely with another snowball already in hand. Before Sherlock had time to react, the second snowball was already on his shoulder.

He narrowed his eyes at John, and came closer to him. When they were about three feet apart from each other, Sherlock bent down and grabbed some snow, flinging it straight at John's face. It hit him right on his forehead, leaving white flakes in his hair and eyebrows, his eyes pinched tight, and his jaw open in a happy shock.

He rubbed his hands over his head so he could open his eyes, and then he nailed Sherlock right on the nose with another snowball.

They continued to throw snowballs at each other, laughing and giggling as they did so.

After a few minutes of this, Sherlock came right up to John and sprinkled some snow over his head. They grinned at each other, their smiles stretching from ear to ear.

Sherlock leaned down toward John, and pressed his own lips to John's.

They were kissing in a park, covered in snow, and didn't care what anyone thought.


	3. Hot Cocoa

John placed the hot mug in front of Sherlock, and sat down beside him with his own steaming beverage.

Not bothering to take the time to thank John, Sherlock took a sip from his mug. But when he did so, his eyes widened greatly, and he nearly spit it out- much to John's amusement.

After swallowing, Sherlock managed to shout at John, "This isn't _tea!_" What is this!?" His nose crinkled in displeasure as he looked down into the mug in his hands.

"It's hot cocoa, Sherlock. It's Christmas time, Sherlock. You're supposed to have hot cocoa when it's cold out!"

"But it's not _tea!_ What's the point in it? Tea helps me think, this is just rubbish!"

"It's not, rubbish, Sherlock. It'd good. And you can put marshmallows in it, too. It's good, Sherlock. And normal people have it all the time during the winter, and especially during Christmas season."

"Rubbish. Make me some tea, John."

"Make your own tea!"

"Nope. Boring."

"Well, I'm not making it for you. You'll just have to drink hot cocoa instead."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, still not ready to admit defeat. Then he grinned, and surprised John as he bent down and kissed him. "It tastes much better now," he whispered on John's lips.

And the two let their cocoas get cold, completely forgotten amongst the kisses.

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**A/N: But seriously, guys. Don't forget to review.**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	4. Books

"Bored."

"No, really? Figure something out to do for yourself. I'm busy."

"Bored."

John sighed, and just kept typing.

"John, I'm _bored!_"

Sighing again, John got up, and looked as though he was going to Sherlock, but instead, he turned around and picked a book off of the shelf. He threw it at Sherlock, and it spiraled in the air for a second before landing in Sherlock's lap.

"Ugh, John, books are so _dull!_"

"Oh, this is dull, is it? You're not even going to give it a chance then?"

"No. Too dull and boring."

"Fine, then," and John took the book from Sherlock, curled up next to him on the sofa, and started reading.

After a few moments of silence, Sherlock leaned in over John's shoulder, looking at the book.

"I thought it was dull, Sherlock," he said, not even looking up from the book, causing Sherlock to bolt back into his previous position, slightly startled.

"It- it is. I was just curious as to why you would suddenly stop what was keeping you so busy."

"Oh, stop making excuses you twat. Learn to read a good book when you're bored. Oh, and stop making excuses," John smirked.

Then he closed the book, turned so he was on his knees on the couch, facing Sherlock, and shoved the book against Sherlock's chest, pushing him back onto the arm.

Then he leaned down and kissed him.

"Still bored?"

"No," Sherlock said, grinning into another kiss.

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**A/N: I was seriously considering having the book being 50 Shades, because reasons, but, well, you know. I suppose we could just pretend it was 50 Shades. So, yeah. Hope you liked it. YOU MUST REVIEW NOW BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

But seriously, please review, I'll love you forever.

**Keep Writing. XD**


	5. Ice Skating

**A/N: Hey, guess what. If you're reading this, it means I love you. A lot. Because you're amazing. And guess what else. If you're reading this, then it also means that this chapter is dedicated to you, because you're so cool and amazing and brilliant, and I LOVE YOU! :D**

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The man took an unsteady step, grasping onto the railing. He had no idea why he was there. He never should have come in the first place. He knew it would end badly. Why hadn't he listened to reason? It was his own fault. He took another unsteady step, and nearly collapsed, but he put both hands on the railing now so he wouldn't. He couldn't believe he had let himself be talked into this.

"John, this is ridiculous!" he finally said.

"Come on, Sherlock, It will come naturally. Let go of the railing, and it will be fine!" John reassured him.

Sherlock turned, and John thought he was going out on the ice, but instead he leant against the railing, his hands holding on tightly to the rail behind him.

"Take my hand," John said, and reached his hand out to Sherlock. "Take my hand, and you'll be fine."

Sherlock glanced down at John's hand, and his face softened. He reached out, and gently took John's hand, and together they floated out on the arena. John gracefully led a rather unsteady Sherlock, but after a while, Sherlock started to get the hang of it.

"There you go," John said, grinning. "You're getting there. I still can't believe you haven't gone ice skating before, though! Harry and I used to go all the time when we were kids. We would come here all the time. Come here, Sherlock, I have to show you something!"

Confused and sceptical, Sherlock followed John, still holding onto his hand. Soon, they found themselves near a small crevice, hidden from most.

"Since Harry and I were here almost every day each winter, we found this place. Nobody really knows about it, except us."

So the two went in to the small area, and skated around in small circles, never letting go of the other's hand. Then they skated to the centre, smiling like fools. Sherlock took John's other hand, and then he leaned down and kissed him.

"I told you you would have fun," John murmured into the kiss.

"That's still debatable," Sherlock said, then wrapped his arms around John, and kissed him again.

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**A/N: What do you think? A good chapter to have dedicated to you? Well, review and let me know! Because then, even though it may seem impossible, I'll love you even more. :D**

Keep Writing. XD


	6. ParkasBig Jackets

"I don't _like_ this one, John."

"No, because you don't like _any_ of them. Here, how's this one?"

"No. Come on, John, I don't need one!"

"Yes, Sherlock, you do! It's winter, it's getting cold, and you need a good coat. That long coat of yours may look good, but it won't keep you warm enough."

Sherlock sighed, shook off the heavy coat he was wearing, and took the one John was holding up.

"No, this one's annoying, John," Sherlock complained as he took it off.

"Oh, no you don't. They're all annoying, Sherlock. They're winter coats. They're supposed to be," he answered as he grabbed the coat and pulled it back onto Sherlock, much to the taller man's dismay.

"I've never needed one before!"

"No, you did need one before; you just chose not to get one. But I'm here now, so you will get one, whether you like it or not. Okay, Sherlock?"

Sherlock just crossed his arms in response, half-glaring at John.

"Fine, then. Here, how's this one?"

But Sherlock didn't budge. "I like the one I have better."

"And so do I, but you still need a thicker one! I don't want you getting pneumonia from the cold!" he said as he managed to slip the coat off of Sherlock. "And besides, with as little body fat as you have," he said, taking a step closer and stroking Sherlock's side gently, "god knows you'll need the thickest coat we can find to keep you warm."

Sherlock put his hand over John's, still at his side. "I still don't want one."

"Well, then, I guess you'll just have to share mine," John said, smiling up at Sherlock.

Suddenly, Sherlock leaned down and kissed John. Then he leaned into his ear, and whispered, "Well, John, I must say, I quite like that idea."

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**A/N: Well, the chapter is a little bit later in the day than I'd hoped, but I spent nearly all day doing birthday festivities for my sister's 17th today. But I think the chapter came out nicely, anyway.**

So, yeah. I can't have been the only one that noticed that, although extremely sexy, Sherlock's coat really isn't quite adequate enough for winter. But we can talk about it if you review the chapter, ya know. :D

Keep Writing. XD


	7. Sledding

"John, this is mad!" Sherlock shouted, his nose red from the cold.

"Don't worry, Sherlock it'll be fine, I promise you!"

"The hill is too steep, so the velocity will be too great. There are too many obstacles- with our combined weight added to the velocity will result in the sled toppling over, and if, by some miracle and breaking several laws of physics, we manage to get to the bottom of the hill, we will no doubt crash into something- most likely a bush or another person!"

"It's just sledding, Sherlock! Relax!" John grinned as he put the sled on top of the thick layer of snow. "It'll be fine," he assured Sherlock as he stood and took his hand.

He steadied the sled with his foot, and looked up at Sherlock. "You ready?"

"I'm not going."

John grinned devilishly, and pushed him onto the sled in the front spot. "Too bad," he nearly whispered, and he kicked the sled to a start.

"JOHN!" Sherlock screamed.

In a panic, Sherlock grabbed control of the sled, and began to steer them down the hill. He expertly managed to avoid the rocks and trees throughout the hill, but when they got to the bottom, as Sherlock had predicted, he swerved to avoid a bush, resulting in Sherlock and John toppling on top of each other.

They eventually landed side by side in the snow, and although he didn't want to, Sherlock couldn't help but grin widely with John.

"Told you it would be fine," John said, and he leaned in, and kissed Sherlock.

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**A/N: Because really. How could Sherlock not be all sciencey and boss when he goes sledding? He would be amazing. Wouldn't he? Review and let me know what you think! I'll love you forever if you review.**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	8. Snow Angels

John and Sherlock walked on the sidewalk beside each other, not really doing anything. Just walking around the park side by side.

Sherlock noticed as John stopped and watched a small group of children running around together and laughing in the snow. John smiled as he watched them play, and Sherlock couldn't help but smile at John.

"Come on, Sherlock," John said suddenly, and grabbed Sherlock's hand, pulling him into the snow.

Sherlock's expression changed from a soft smile to a surprised, open-mouthed look, but he followed John anyway, the pair of them leaving footprints in the snow.

"What are we doing, John?" Sherlock asked when they reached an untouched patch of snow.

John just grinned, and came up close to Sherlock. He grabbed his coat collar and pulled Sherlock in close. Sherlock's breath hitched, and his eyes darted down to John's lips.

But suddenly, John threw Sherlock down on the ground, and despite his best efforts, Sherlock fell to the ground.

"Making snow angels!" John finally replied happily as he lay down next to Sherlock.

"Making what?"

"Snow angels! Come on, Sherlock!"

"But we're not children!"

"So what? It's still fun, and I haven't done it since I was a kid! Can't two adults have fun once in a while?"

Sherlock gave John a sceptical look, but the two made snow angels anyway.

When they stood up, John pulled Sherlock closer to him, and together they looked at their angels.

"Look, Sherlock. The wings are touching," John noted.

"They're hardly wings, John. They are simply-"

"Oh, shut up you," John said, and this time when he grabbed Sherlock's collar and pulled him in close, he really did kiss him.

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**A/N: Well, this is what you get when you're tired out of your mind, and have a pounding headache. If it weren't for those two factors, I would have done this in, what twenty minutes? But no, it took me three hours. And I couldn't type anything. I kept trying to type the wrong names. Every time.**

Review and let me know if it's good or crap please? I'll love you forever? You'll be my best friend?

Keep Writing. XD


	9. FireplaceCandles

As Sherlock and John stepped into the flat shivering, they shook off their snow-covered coats, and hung them, in the hopes that they'd dry off.

John, as always, was the one to prepare the tea for both of them, while Sherlock managed to sit on the couch and do nothing.

When he came into the living room, John sighed as he handed Sherlock his tea- since Sherlock had successfully accomplished absolutely nothing while John had made him tea.

"Are you just going to sit there, then?"

When John got no response from Sherlock, he sighed, and took his tea down to check on Mrs Hudson.

Although, much to his surprise, when he came back up, he saw Sherlock lighting a candle in front of a burning fire in the fireplace.

"Sherlock? What's all this?'

"I thought we could warm up by the fire," he said as he walked over to a very confused John, grinning, and took his hand. Sherlock brought John over to the fireplace, where they sat on the floor, each leaning against their respective chairs.

"Warm enough?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm getting there, John replied, and he couldn't help but mimic Sherlock's grin.

"Well," Sherlock began with a sly grin, "maybe I should fix that."

And suddenly, he was crawling over to John. He crawled right up to him, and then right over him. He put his legs outside of John's, and his hands on either side of John's chair, leaning against it.

Then he leaned in, and he kissed John.

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**A/N: Because what the hell. Why not have both? **

**FOLLOWERS. Y U NO REVIEW!? ;A;**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	10. Snowed In

Sherlock screamed in frustration, and threw some papers on the ground. John sighed, and rested his head on his hand.

"Sherlock, please calm down?" John begged for what must have been the hundreth time in the last hour. "There's nothing anyone can do about it."

"But I need a CASE, JOHN!" Sherlock screamed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Not only that, but the IDIOTS at the Yard HAVE ONE, and I CAN'T WORK ON IT!"

"Sherlock, there's nothing anyone can do about the snow! It's snow! You'll just have to wait. I'm sure we could think of something that could keep you busy!"

"Don't you think I would have DONE something about that already, John!? If there were ANYTHING here that could help, don't you think I would be doing it _right now!?_"

"Sherlock, you have to relax before you kill me! Of course, then maye that would _entertain_ you enough!? Maybe you could kill me, and figure out some clever way to make it an accident or get away with it while snowed in anyway! God knows I'll be dead anyway if you don't get out of here in a few days!" John shouted back, stabbing an accusing finger at Sherlock.

"But you don't _UNDERSTAND_, John! I-"

"No, Sherlock! You think _I_ don't understand!? Trust me I understand more than you know! You, throwing your temper tantrums like a child when you don't get your way! Maybe I should just move out if that's how it's going to be, because I'll be dead before we know it!"

Before the words escaped John's lips, he regretted them. The shock of what he said left them both silent for a minute.

"Sherlock I- I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean it, I swear.

"John, I. . . I didn't realise. I. . . I'm sorry. I do sometimes forget to take how you might feel into account," Sherlock tried to explain, looking down at his feet, rather ashamed.

"Sherlock, don't. It's okay. You know I could never leave here. I could never leave Baker Street. Mrs Hudson. I could especially never leave _you_."

Sherlock looked sheepishly at John, and couldn't help but smile at John's hopeful expression. And before they knew what was happening, they were leaning in together, and their lips met in a sweet, soft kiss, and then both knew the other was truly sorry.

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**A/N: If you read this and you don't review, you're gonna have a bad time.**

**(Yes, because I am so desperate I am resorting to memes to get people to review now. Don't judge me.)**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	11. Quilts

**A/N: I love you all. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed last night, because I got ten of them. So, to vampy-chan17 (the first and very lovely review), to Raycheall Dionzeros (another amazing review), thisisforyou (you know I love you, hon), SherlockedSherlockian, (Review *ALL!* the chapters! Why, thank you!), and to the guest (don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from! At least 31 days' worth!). This one's for all of you!**

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"John?" Sherlock nearly whispered.

"Yeah, Sherlock, what is it?" John asked groggily. Sherlock was keeping him up late with the case, and at this point he was willing to do anything to get him to go to bed.

"John, it's cold in my room."

At first, John was confused. When was the last time Sherlock went to his room?

But after a minute, he realised that he must have dozed off. He stood up before he responded.

"Just grab a quilt, Sherlock. There should be one or two in the closet somewhere. I'm going to bed now."

"But John," Sherlock began, half-whining, "it's _cold._ I can't think or sleep in there. It's too cold."

John turned around, and looked at Sherlock. "Well, I don't know Sherlock. Just . . . do something. You can take care of yourself. . . . Supposedly. . . ."

John moved to go to his room, but Sherlock grabbed his arm, and John sighed.

"John . . . could I. . . . Would it be alright if I. . . . Could I stay in your room tonight? Just while mine heats up?"

He _was_ willing to do anything to get Sherlock in bed so he could sleep, so he sighed, and agreed. "Come on, then, Sherlock. Let's go."

And so the two of them trudged upstairs together, but first stopping to get quilts for both rooms from the closet.

When they reached John's room, they put the quilt on the bed together, and then crawled onto the mattress.

"You warm enough here?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said. He paused for a minute, and then added, "Thank you, John."

John just smiled at Sherlock in response. And perhaps it was that he was so tired that he couldn't think, or perhaps it was what he actually wanted, but John squirmed closer to Sherlock, and he kissed him. And together they fell asleep, lying in each other's arms.

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**A/N: Oh, and I wrote this one while watching A Study in Pink with my family. Teehee.**

**Don't forget to add to all the lovely review, my dear readers! As clearly shown I will love you all!**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	12. Mistletoe

**A/N: I love you all. EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU. (But especially you guys that reviewed! ;D Love you guys.)**

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"I still don't understand the point of this," Sherlock complained as he hung another piece of mistletoe above the doorway into the kitchen.

"Because it's wintertime, and you're supposed to! To get in the spirit of Christmas!"

"Why do people even put mistletoe up in the winter? It's just a plant. It doesn't have any special properties."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Sherlock," John said, stepping off his chair and grinning. "There is a reason, and mistletoe does have a special property of sorts."

Curious, Sherlock came toward John, stepping over the bags and boxes of Christmas decorations.

"Well, then, please, inform me of the properties of the mistletoe."

"Well, a long time ago, especially in medieval France, people used to believe that if you were born or conceived on Christmas Eve or on Christmas, you'd grow up to be a werewolf," John explained.

"That's ridiculous, the physical capability for a man to turn completely into another animal is absolutely impossible," Sherlock said crossing his arms.

"Well, it _was_ the medieval ages- they didn't know that. But anyway. They knew that werewolves were deathly allergic to mistletoe, so it would keep them away. So they would hang up mistletoe around the holidays so that they could kiss safely without having to fear anything about werewolves. But then, after a while, it just became a holiday tradition."

"It's still ridiculous, John. And impossible."

"Well, Sherlock, there's one more thing."

"And what's that," Sherlock sighed, tired of hearing impossible trivia.

"We're standing under some mistletoe," John grinned, looking up.

"Oh, well in _that_ case," Sherlock said, and he grinned, too, as he placed his hand behind John's neck, leaned down, and kissed him.

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**A/N: Yes, the stuff about the werewolves is true- thank my sister who is convinced she's a werewolf for that. **

**Don't forget to review again, I'll love you forever, blah blah blah. You know the drill. ;)**

Keep Writing. XD


	13. Snowmen

**A/N: Dedicated to thisisforyou. Feel better, hon. **

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"Come on! It just _can't_ be true!" John said grinning. "There is no way! Everyone does it as a kid!"

They had been lightly arguing for a few minutes now, while John continued to pack snow on, and Sherlock mostly stood there, arms crossed, watching him.

"You've _met_ my brother, John. If you can even call him that. . . ."

"Well, then, if you've honestly never done it, then you have to come and help me. Because I have to change that."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John, but he reluctantly came over to him anyway, and helped him pack snow on.

Not to John's surprise, Sherlock was a natural. He was able to get the snow to just the right consistency so that he could sculpt it perfectly. Was there anything that man couldn't relate to science?

When they finished it, and managed to find stones and pebbles enough for all of the snowman's proper features, John grinned, and walked over to Sherlock. He placed his hands on the taller man's chest, and leaned against him.

But in the blink of an eye, John had ripped off Sherlock's scarf, and was beginning to wrap it around the snowman.

In shock, Sherlock's hands flung up to his neck, clawing at his now bare skin.

"I can't believe you fell for that, you idiot," John said as he walked back over to Sherlock.

"Give me back my scarf, John!" Sherlock said, although he couldn't help but grin.

"You'll have to get it from me, then!" John shouted in response, and grabbed the scarf off of their snowman.

After a few minutes, Sherlock managed to grab his scarf, so John tossed it behind Sherlock's neck, still holding onto the ends, which were now wrapped around his hands. Breathless and grinning, they stood together, and John tugged on the scarf, bringing Sherlock's lips crashing down on his own.

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**A/N: Yes, because Sherlock never did anything in his life as a child. Ever. **

**Don't forget to review, because I'll love you forever. And to all of you that did review, I love you so much, you're all amazing and fantastic, and keep up the good work!**

**Oh. And by the way. Guess who's seeing The Hobbit opening day (not at midnight though), in IMAX 3D, with nine minutes of Star Trek: Into Darkness with Benedict Cumberbatch? That's right- me!**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	14. Hot Baths

**A/N: GUYS IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE! IT'S FINALLY HERE! HOT BATHS DAY! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE SINCE I STARTED THIS. And I think it came out really well!**

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John sighed and smiled as he lowered himself slowly into the tub. It had been a long, cold, exhausting week. Sherlock had barely let John sleep until they finished the case this morning, and what John needed right now was a nice hot bath to loosen his muscles, and just help him relax. And right after that, he'd take a nap.

He had just situated himself and begun to relax, when suddenly there was a harsh banging on the door.

"JOHN!" Sherlock shouted urgently.

Sighing, John responded, "What is it Sherlock? Can it wait until later? Please?"

"NO, JOHN! I DRANK TOO MUCH TEA! I NEED TO USE THE TOILET!"

"Sherlock, I'm in the tub! Go use Mrs Hudson's toilet or something!"

Sherlock shouted out quickly in frustration, and opened the door.

"SHERLOCK!" John shouted, curling up in an attempt to conceal himself at least a bit.

"It's an emergency, John!" Sherlock said as he nearly danced over to the toilet.

And, much to John's discomfort, Sherlock relieved himself, right in front of John. Sherlock let go of the breath he barely knew he was holding, and when he finished, he turned to a rather embarrassed John.

A devilish grin appeared on Sherlock's face, and before John could utter a word, Sherlock was stripping, and stepping into the tub with John.

"This is a splendid idea," Sherlock said, smirking. "It feels lovely. Now I know why you like it so much in here."

And with that, Sherlock leaned in and kissed John, whose mouth was still agape in shock.

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**A/N: This chapter. XD Oh, Sherlock. You're such a toddler. But you know we love you. **

**Remember, review, and I'll love you forever! And I usually try to respond so we can have a lovely conversation, because I really do love all of you, you know. :D  
**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	15. Winter Hats and Mittens

Pulling Sherlock's hat down some more, John smiled at Sherlock's upset expression.

"I don't like this ridiculous hat, John! It's almost as bad as the ear-hat!" Sherlock whined.

"Sherlock, you'll be fine. Don't worry about it. And you know you'd regret it later if you didn't wear one. Just get used to it! I manage to live with it," he said, putting his own hat on.

He pulled on his gloves, and watched as Sherlock did the same, his facial expression, however, remaining the same grumpy frown.

"I don't want to wear it, John. I look ridiculous."

"Well, I don't think you do. And besides, since when do you care what others think about you? Besides me, anyway," John said with a playful smirk.

"Since I don't like this hat, John."

"Oh, Sherlock, stop being so difficult!" John countered, still grinning, as he adjusted Sherlock's hat again. "Unless you want to wear your scarf as a hat, then I suggest you stop complaining."

"But, John! This hat is absolutely absurd! And besides, judging by how long it is, it will do very little for keeping neither my head nor my ears warm, not to mention-"

He was cut off by John pulling him down by his scarf for a kiss.

"It looks cute on you, now let's go," he said, and pulled Sherlock down for another kiss.

John then walked out the door without saying another word, and Sherlock silently following him, not wanting to protest any longer.

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**A/N: Wow. That came out really well, especially considering I did it in, what, five minutes? Eleven, tops. **

**Review, review, review, yadda, yadda, yadda.**

Keep Writing. XD


	16. Shivering From the Cold

**A/N: Guys, SherlockedSherlockian is the only one that loves me- THE ONLY REVIEW I GOT FROM YESTERDAY WAS FROM SHERLOCKEDSHERLOCKIAN. Well guess what? This chapter is officially dedicated to YOU! SherlockedSherlockian, because you really are amazing. :D**

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John stepped in the door behind Sherlock, and together they hung up their coats and went on their way up the stairs, still shivering from the bitter cold outside.

When they reached the living room, the heat had somehow been turned off, so it was cold in there, as well. So John got the fire going as Sherlock turned the heat up and got the kettle to a boil, and then the two of them sat down together on the sofa, each with a nice mug of hot tea. (Sherlock had wanted to use the nice cups, but John said they should only use them when they had company or Mycroft.)

"John, I'm still cold," Sherlock said, clutching his knees beneath a blanket.

"So am I," John sighed. It seemed that no matter what they did, they couldn't get warm.

So suddenly, John was moving right up against Sherlock, snuggling against him, and putting his own blanket on top of the one they now shared so they were each under two.

"Perhaps our body heat can help with that," John said finally, as he settled.

"Perhaps, indeed," Sherlock said, and he leaned down and kissed John. "And perhaps this will help as well," he added, and kissed John again - a full-on, open-mouthed, proper snog this time.

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**A/N: So. SherlockedSherlockian. Happy you reviewed now? :D**

**So. Other followers. Regretting not reviewing now? Don't worry, you know I still love you all. Just don't forget to review! **

**Keep Writing. XD**


	17. Shovelling Snow

"Why do _we_ have to do this?" Sherlock whined?

"Because your brother asked us to, and it's the nice thing to do, anyway," John replied as he dumped another shovelful of the heavy snow to the side.

They had been asked by Mycroft to shovel the driveway of his estate a few days ago, and John had told him that they would after they finished the case. They had finished it yesterday evening, so Mycroft knew they'd be arriving the next morning.

They'd been out shovelling the snow for about a half an hour now, and they were about one-third done.

"Can't he have one of those servants or whatever he calls them do it instead?" Sherlock complained more. "Not to mention they'd all be done by now."

"No, Sherlock, they're all off on holiday break now. They don't have to come into work."

"If they get a holiday, why can't we?"

"Because he's your brother, and you're supposed to do these things, Sherlock. He's too busy running the world. You should know that," John said with a sarcastic grin.

Sherlock pouted in response, and he let his shovel remain completely snow-less at his side.

Sighing, John dropped his shovel and went over to Sherlock.

"Come on, Sherlock. Can't you two get along just once a year? Just for Christmas?"

"No, John, we can't. Mycroft and I do not get along. We never have and never will, you should know this by now."

"Just for me, Sherlock? If you won't do it for Mycroft, then do it for me?"

When Sherlock didn't reply, John leaned in for a kiss instead.

"So do you think you can do it for me?" John asked again as he pulled away.

"I suppose so," Sherlock replied at last, and leaned in for another kiss in the cold.

* * *

**A/N: Mycroft, you nuisance. It's all your fault. It's always your fault. **

**It's your fault they're kissing. **

**I love you, Mycroft. **

***coughs* Anyway. So, yeah. Don't forget to review. :D**

Keep Writing. XD


	18. HibernationSleep

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to those who will never read this. Those who were lost at the Sandy Hook Elementary school today, only the town over from mine. And to those effected by it. My heart goes out to all of you. **

* * *

John trudged slowly up the stairs after Sherlock, who had already run up the stairs, and was probably sulking already with the sudden lack of case. They had just come back from a small town called Arkenstone for a very interesting case. Sherlock had solved it one day after they arrived, much to the Yard's confusion, as usual.

Sherlock had kept John up all night for the past week both before and during their time in Arkenstone, and he thought he might just sleep all of the rest of winter away.

"I'm going to bed, Sherlock," John said, barely able to get the words out he was so tired. When he didn't get a response from Sherlock, he assumed he was already deep in thought about something John would never need to know about, but would know everything about soon enough.

John shrugged off his jacket and took of his shoes, not bothering to change into anything comfortable before he collapsed into his bed and turned out the lights.

But he was awoken five minutes later by Sherlock looking very much like a little boy at his parents' bedside.

"Hrmmn?" Was all John managed to say.

"John, it's still cold in my room," Sherlock half-whispered.

"Why is it always cold in your room all of a sudden?" John asked, his words slurring.

"I don't know, John, ask the heater in my room, not me."

"Hrmn," John said as he rolled over, making room for Sherlock.

Sherlock smiled and crawled into John's bed. After he covered himself beneath the thick blankets, he leaned on his elbow and gave John a kiss.

"Goodnight, John," he said, but the older man was already fast asleep again.

* * *

**A/N: If there are any mistakes, please tell me? I'm tired out of my mind because it's late, and it's been an insanely long day. As I said, the shooting happened in the town next to mine, and even though I was home sick, all my siblings were at school under lock down almost all day, so I haven't been thinking straight all day long.**

**Keep Writing.**

Keep On Keepin' On.


	19. Gingerbread

Sherlock stepped in the door to find a very concentrated John sitting at the table. He seemed very focused, and didn't even notice when his flatmate came right up next to him, until he sat down as well.

Turning his head almost like a dog in confusion, Sherlock asked, "What are you doing, John?"

"Making a gingerbread TARDIS. What does it look like I'm doing?" he responded as he gently finished off the stream of icing, licking his finger.

"Right, then. . . ."

"Do you want to make something? There's more than enough," John said as he gestured to the wide supply of sweets and gingerbread lying all across the table.

"I don't think so, John. It doesn't seem like it could be much fun. Can you even eat it after?"

"You mean to tell me you've never made a gingerbread house, either? What did you do with your life as a child?" he asked more to himself. He paused and then added, "Never mind, don't answer that."

John pushed his paper plate aside, and grabbed a clean one from the stack beside him. He grabbed some of the essentials- a few pieces of gingerbread, a bag of icing with the corner cut off, powdered sugar, and various candies. Then he took the plate, and placed it in front of Sherlock.

"There. Now, let's see what you can do, genius," John said with a sly grin.

He watched as Sherlock tried several times to get the gingerbread slices to stand together correctly, and couldn't help but smile at the look of concentration on Sherlock's face as he tried again and again.

"Look, Sherlock," John said standing up, "it's all science. You just have to think about it. Look."

And with that, John stood behind Sherlock's chair, and placed his hands over Sherlock's long fingers.

"If you do it just right," he said as he helped Sherlock place icing between two sides, "it will stand perfectly. You just have to think about it, and it will be fine."

"Thank you, John," Sherlock said, looking up at him. He took an icing-covered hand from under John's, and placed it on the Doctor's face instead, bringing him down for a kiss.

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**A/N: Phew, that was a close one! One minute to spare! Here you have it. **

**Don't forget to review. **

**Keep Writing. XD**


	20. Scarves

**A/N: Really, really sorry I didn't update it yesterday! I did write it yesterday, but it was absolutely insane at my house, and I never got the chance to upload it! So here, a first-thing-in-the-morning-when-I-should-be-getting-ready-for-school update! And I'll update again later today, I promise! Enjoy!**

* * *

"John?" Sherlock asked as he curiously looked around the coat hanger. "John, have you seen my scarf? I can't seem to find it."

John chuckled in response, and Sherlock turned quickly to see John tightening it around his neck.

"John, give me back my scarf!" Sherlock shouted and he grabbed for it, but John was quicker. He dodged Sherlock, and proceeded to run up the stairs, away from Sherlock.

Chasing after him, Sherlock shouted, "Can't you just get your own scarf!?"

"This is payback for all those stupid experiments you did, keeping body parts in the fridge, and god knows what in my tea kettle!" John shouted in response from somewhere in the flat, but Sherlock couldn't tell from where he was shouting.

Eventually, Sherlock found him hiding in Sherlock's bedroom, and he tackled him from behind, grabbing his scarf.

"Agh!" John exclaimed in surprise, and reached for the scarf, which he was currently being nearly choked by as Sherlock attempted to tug it off.

When Sherlock couldn't get the scarf off, he turned John around, so they were facing each other. He narrowed his eyes and suddenly, he leaned in and kissed John. In his surprise, John made the mistake of loosening his grip on the scarf, and Sherlock, grinning into the kiss, slipped the scarf away from around John's neck, and John didn't even notice as he melted into the tender kiss.

Sherlock broke away, and whispered into John's ear, "I got the scarf," and he grinned, and walked away, leaving a dazed and confused John in his wake.

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**A/N: Don't forget to review if you liked the chapter (which was one of the easiest prompts ever for Sherlock! Right up there with cheesy sweaters)!**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	21. Soup

When it got to be around eleven thirty in the morning, and there was still no sign of Sherlock, John curiously went over to see what he was up to. Sherlock rarely slept at all, let alone this much.

When he entered Sherlock's room, he found the detective lying in his bed, only half awake. Used tissues were piled all around him, and there was a nearly empty box by his side. Sherlock was lying with his head propped up on several pillows, and he looked even paler than normal- which John had previously thought to be impossible.

"Oh, god, Sherlock, what happened to you?"

"Is it not clear, John? I appear to have caught a virus," Sherlock answered in a bland tone, some of his letters not sounding quite right through his completely stuffed nose.

"Come on, Sherlock, let's get you out of bed," John said as he grabbed Sherlock by the arm, and tugged him up to a wobbly stand.

Leaning on John the entire way, Sherlock was able to make it wearily to the living room where he laid down on the couch, and was covered in a thick blanket by John.

John went off into the kitchen, and after a bit of banging of pots and clattering of silverware and opening of bags, John returned to Sherlock with a steaming bowl of soup.

"You just made this yourself," Sherlock asked, incredulous.

"Yes, genius, now eat it," John ordered as he placed the soup in Sherlock's lap, and sat on the floor beside Sherlock.

Slowly, Sherlock leaned forward and ate his soup. When he finished, he leaned back and lay down again, and John cleared his dish.

"You look awful, Sherlock, you need to rest," John insisted as he crouched down on his knees beside Sherlock.

Sherlock looked up at John with big, innocent-looking eyes, and said, "Thank you, John," and he inched his head forward, and kissed John.

"I'm going to catch your cold," John said, though he didn't move.

Suddenly, John turned his head, and sneezed.

"I think you already have, Doctor Watson," Sherlock smirked and kissed him again.

* * *

**A/N: And once again, John forgets everything, and just kisses Sherlock back. XD**

**Don't forget to review! It will make my day!**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	22. Huddle For Warmth

The moment Sherlock stepped into John's room, the older man, already nearly half asleep, sighed. He knew what was coming.

Before Sherlock had a chance to say anything, John scooted over, and pulled the sheets over so Sherlock could lay down under them.

"You really ought to have Mycroft have someone look into your heat. Either that, or just permanently move yourself up here, since it seems that's what you'll be doing anyway," John said. Although if he was honest, he didn't really mind the nights Sherlock was there.

Sherlock's heat, for some reason, had not been working all winter. Perhaps it was genuine, and they actually should have someone look into it. Or perhaps it was Sherlock not wanting to go to bed on his own every now and then. But whatever it was, John didn't mind the detective's presence.

And so Sherlock climbed in to bed next to John, and they just lay there with each other. When John scooted closer to Sherlock, he saw that he really was cold.

"God, Sherlock, you're freezing!" John said as he wrapped his flatmate into his arms, and held him tight.

In response to John's embrace, Sherlock huddled closer to John, burying his face into John's chest. John rested his chin on top of Sherlock's head, his nose tickled by the dark curls.

"Thank you, John," Sherlock murmured into John's chest.

"Yeah, yeah," John responded lazily and sarcastically, and he kissed Sherlock on the forehead. Only to be kissed square on the lips by a now equally tired detective.

* * *

**A/N: Sherlock, plz. We know your heat works perfectly fine. Because once again you crawl into bed with John because "it's cold". Either that, or I'm just lazy.**

**Yep, I think that's it.**

**Tell me, do you like it when Sherlock complains his heat is cold? ;) Review and let me know! :D**

***Sigh* And now, after listening to "Don't Stand So Close To Me" by The Police all day, I really want to write a Johnlock Teacher!John, Student!Sherlock or vice versa fic. Ugh.**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	23. Sick

**A/N: Hey, guys, I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday, but my parents got my progress report, and apparently it wasn't good enough for them, so guess who went to bed early and had to write it on PAPER OF ALL THINGS!?**

**But hey, at least you get two chapters today this way, right? **

* * *

Slowly and heavily, John padded into the kitchen from his room. His nose was so stuffed he couldn't breathe through it at all, and his jaws hurt immensely from opening and closing it so many times in an attempt to pop his ears (with no success). His sinuses hurt horribly, and he felt like they were all going to explode momentarily if he didn't do it himself. He had a pounding headache, so bad he couldn't even move his eyes without a searing pain coursing through his skull.

He put the kettle to boil, but even what was usually a relaxing and comforting sound of the bubbles popping as the water evaporated and he knew his tea would soon be ready, made his head ache today.

Somehow, though, he managed to make himself a cup of hot tea, place it on the table in the living room, and lay down on the couch in his bathrobe under layers upon layers of thick blankets.

John looked at the clock, and saw that it was one thirty in the afternoon, meaning he had woken up at about two o'clock. It also meant that Sherlock was due into the living room.

And, as if on cue, Sherlock stepped out of the hallway. And he appeared to be in a similar state to John, though not nearly as severe.

"John."

"Mmph?"

"I feel awful," Sherlock whined, his eyes tired and drooping.

"Try being as bad off as I seem to be, "John said as Sherlock climbed beneath the blankets with him and took a sip of the doctor's tea, "then we'll talk."

"Shhhh," Sherlock said, and he silenced John with a kiss. "Headache," he whispered as he pulled away.

* * *

**A/N: MAH BBYS. They need to get better. OR ELSE. (This wouldn't have happened if Sherlock's darn heating would just work already! I'm just sayin' is all!)**

**Don't forget to review. I'll love you for freaking ever, I swear to Johnlock. **

**Keep Writing. XD**


	24. Boots

**A/N: Well, I uploaded it at 11:59. IT COUNTS, OKAY?**

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John walked in the door to hear thumps and bumps coming from upstairs. He sighed, dropped his coat and his bag, and ran upstairs.

He was halfway up, when suddenly the noise stopped. Which worried John even more.

When he finally reached his room, he looked in to find everything from his closet on the floor, Sherlock sitting in the centre of the pile.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed as he entered the room. "What are you doing!?"

Sherlock looked up, and almost looked surprised to see John there.

"John," Sherlock began curiously, "why don't you wear these anymore?" he said, holding up John's old army boots.

And suddenly, John was flooded with too many memories. All the now faint stains came to life, and they were brand new.

All the times they got covered in blood.

All the times they had gotten singed from an explosion nearby.

All the times anything had happened.

He staggered backward, and leaned against the door frame for support.

"John?" Sherlock said, and surprisingly, he actually sounded concerned. He dropped the boots, and hopped over to John. "I'm sorry, John, I didn't realise. . . ."

Sherlock grabbed John by the arm, and he brought him to the bed.

"It's okay, now, John. You're here. You're safe, John. You're okay. _I'm_ here. It's okay, John."

Sherlock leaned down and kissed John, and the reaction was immediate. He relaxed into Sherlock's touch and his embrace, and suddenly, he was fine now that he had Sherlock.

* * *

**A/N: John, it's okay! SHERLOCK LOVES YOU!**

**AND SO DO I, BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.**

**Anyway. Don't forget to review, my lovelies! **

**Keep Writing. XD**


	25. Exchange GiftsDonate

**A/N: Again, guys, I'm really sorry I didn't update yesterday! But now you'll get two chapters within a half hour, right?**

* * *

Travelling in the cab beside John, Sherlock stared out the window, a rather angry or upset look on his face.  
"I still don't see why we have to do this. There's no point in it," Sherlock complained, his arms crossed.

"Because, Sherlock," John began, trying to explain to him for the twentieth time now why they were donating gifts to the shelter, "there are people out there who need them more than we do, and who'll probably appreciate them more than we will, anyway."

Sherlock softly mumbled something under his breath, but John didn't quite hear it.

"What'd you say, Sherlock?"

But Sherlock only looked down in response, embarrassed.

"Sherlock?"

"I never got any presents when I was a child," he finally repeated, quietly.

And for some reason, when he spoke those words, John's heart just broke for his friend. After all, most of the fun of the holiday was wandering down on Christmas morning, not knowing what to expect. Opening your gifts, only to be even more surprised. The sheer joy on the faces of your friends and family as they opened their gifts and saw you open your own.

"Sherlock, I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Don't bother, John," Sherlock said, still looking down. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Yes, Sherlock. Yes it does. It matters to _me_."

Sherlock looked up at John, and he could see John was sincere.

"Thank you, John," Sherlock said.

And John and Sherlock leaned in together, and kissed.

* * *

**A/N: Again with my Sherlock headcanon. Why am I so mean to him? My poor bby.**

**Anyway. Don't forget to review, as always. You'll be my new best friend and I'll love you forever and you'll be my favourite, I SWEAR. :D**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	26. Foggy Breath

**A/N: Yeah, again. I uploaded it at 11:59, I swear. Anyway. Yeah. Enjoy. **

* * *

John breathed heavily, and crossed his arms in the cold.

They had been chasing their suspect for the past twenty minutes, and finally they had caught him, and after about ten minutes, the Yard had finally showed up.

As Sherlock and John wandered off, not bothering to brief Lestrade, and decided to take a walk before going back to the flat. Of course, that wasn't the brightest decision when it was about ten degrees out, and they were still out of breath. Their lungs burned, and their hands were stiff from the cold. And yet somehow, it was worth it.

"Are you all right, John?"

"Yeah, fine," John said, grinning up at Sherlock. "You?"

"Fine. Just fine."

They looked at each other, and they couldn't help but giggle. Their breath came out in foggy wisps, and John, for some reason, enjoyed watching the air as it turned from regular air, to foggy breath, to regular air. He watched the air with an interest, and Sherlock just laughed lightly at John's amusement.

"Having fun, John?" Sherlock teased as they walked.

"So what if I am?" John jabbed back lightly.

"Nothing, John. Nothing."

"Oh, shut up. So I like to have fun sometimes. I'm still a child on the inside."

"Of course, John," Sherlock said smirking.

"I said shut up," John said, and silenced the taller man with a kiss.

* * *

**A/N: Please, please, please review and I'll love you forever. Pretty please with Johnlock on top. **

**Keep Writing. XD**


	27. Skiing

Together, John and Sherlock stood at the top of the hill. Sherlock stood tall and confident, while John stood beside him wobbly and dependent on the taller man.

"You sure it's okay, Sherlock?" John asked nervously.

"Don't worry, John. It's all science and maths. All you have to do is-"

"Yeah, I get it. Just . . . don't go too far ahead without me?"

"I'll try, John. Don't worry. Come on, we've got to start. But we can start slowly."

And before John could say anything, Sherlock was pushing him down the hill. They fell together, and managed to stay side-by-side for a while.

"You're doing great, John!" Sherlock managed to shout over the wind, but John could barely hear him over it. And when he did hear him, he didn't believe him. He was nearly falling over every second.

Before long, Sherlock managed to speed ahead of John, leaving him on his own. After seeing Sherlock was far ahead, John began to speed up in an attempt to catch up to his friend. And before he knew it, he was at the bottom, out of breath, and standing next to his friend.

"You've really never done this before?" Sherlock asked between heavy breaths. "You're a natural!" he said as he grinned.

"No," John responded, mimicking Sherlock's grin. "We never had the money for the equipment, the trip, anything. And surely I'm not all that good, Sherlock."

But Sherlock just grinned wider at that response. He leaned in close to John's ear, and whispered, "Oh contraire, my dear Watson. This is the difficult track. Not the beginner's."

John's mouth fell open in complete shock. "You smug little-!" he began to shout, but then he just grabbed Sherlock by the collar and tugged him down for a sudden, rough kiss.

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**A/N: HEY GUYS, LOOK! I MANAGED TO UPLOAD ONE BEFORE THERE'S ONLY FIVE OR LESS MINUTES LEFT UNTIL THE NEXT DAY! I FEEL ACCOMPLISHED. **

**Please review! (IF YOU DON'T YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN ANDERSON. *disapproval face because Anderson is an idiot* (I still love you all though! XD))**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	28. Knitting

**A/N: Guys. Hey, hey guys. Hey, guys, guess what. IT'S ALMOST CHRISTMAS GUYS. Anyway. This chapter is cute. I hope you like it.**

* * *

When John walked into the room, what he saw was what he least expected. Sherlock was sitting in his chair, frustratingly fumbling about with something he held in his hands, tossing it about slightly through his anger.

John coughed when Sherlock didn't see him, and Sherlock looked up, looking surprised and very much caught unawares.

"What are you doing, Sherlock?"

"I . . . . Uh . . . . N- Nothing?"

John just raised his eyebrow and smirked, knowing Sherlock knew he couldn't get away with it.

"I . . . . I was trying to knit you a scarf, but . . . it didn't quite . . . work out . . . ," he managed, holding his odd creation up, rather ashamed.

John tried as hard as he could to contain his laughter, but it was useless. He broke out in a laugh, causing Sherlock only to get angry.

"Is it not good enough, John? I wouldn't have attempted it if I had known how you would react. If that-"

"No, Sherlock, no," he said, finally stopping his laughter. "I suppose I just find it funny that you would ever do something like that, even if it's for me," John explained as he sat in his seat, opposite Sherlock.

In response, Sherlock just looked down at the mess in his lap, took the needles out, stood up, and tossed the thing in John's lap. He moved to go, but John grabbed his wrist. Sherlock looked down at him confused, but John just sat there. He twined his fingers into the loose threads Sherlock had been toying with earlier, pulled Sherlock down, and put the knotted mass behind his neck. Then he tugged, and pulled Sherlock in for a kiss.

"It's perfect," John murmured into the kiss. "I love it."

And Sherlock just kissed him back in response.

* * *

**A/N: So, yeah. Cute, right? Review and let me know! I really liked this chapter. (Although, I am really tired, so that may have some effect on it.)**

**Keep Writing. XD**


	29. Power Outage

When Sherlock walked into John's room and mumbled John's name sleepily, both of them still half asleep, John sighed.

"I thought your heating was fixed," he grumbled.

"No, John, that's not it. It was fixed. But the power's gone out. Nothing's working. It is quite a blizzard out there. Odd, since we don't usually get many here, though."

"Ugh. Okay, Sherlock. What time is it? My watch is over there," John responded, waving tiredly at the bedside table.

"It's . . . three forty-two, John."

John sighed and thought for a while before he continued.

"All right, Sherlock, come here," he said finally, lifting his covers for the taller man to climb into the bed. "You can sleep here for the rest of the night; we'll start a fire in the morning when we wake up."

"Should we find some flashlights, John?"

"No, don't bother. We're just sleeping now. If the power's still out when we go to bed tomorrow- er- tonight, I suppose- then we'll get some, but I doubt it still will be."

"Hmn," Sherlock answered. He was quiet for a few minutes before he added, "You seem very well versed in this area, John."

"We used to get them all the time when I was little. It really just became routine. It's really no big deal any more, I suppose."

"Well, it is to me, John," Sherlock said with a kiss. "Thank you."

"Mhm," John murmured back into the kiss.

* * *

**A/N: SHERLOCK STOP IT YOU ARE NOT A CHILD GOING INTO MUMMY AND DADDY'S ROOM. YOU NEED TO STOP COMPLAINING TO JOHN EVERY TIME SOMETHING GOES THUMP IN THE NIGHT, OKAY? (But it's just so adorable and irresistible~! XD) I originally planned to have this set during the day, but I think the fact that I wrote it at 11:56 might have something to do with the fact that it's YET ANOTHER Sherlock comes whining to John.  
**

**Anyway. Please, please, please review! Let me know if you would think it would have been better during the day or something maybe? :D**

Keep Writing. XD


	30. Singing LoudlyObnoxiously

Sherlock walked into the flat to find a very drunk John singing along with the telly into a nearly empty bottle or some sort of alcohol, in his pyjamas.

"John?" Sherlock asked, but he could barely hear himself over the roar of the telly and the screeching of John's very off-key singing (which was really more like screaming). "John!?" he asked louder, but the doctor still didn't hear him.

Sherlock smirked slightly, and came up behind John. When the older man didn't notice, Sherlock snaked his hands from John's sides up to his shoulders. John immediately stopped singing, and dropped the bottle in surprise. Sherlock leaned in close to John's ear and whispered when he knew John would be able to hear him, "Why, my dear Doctor Watson, I didn't mean for you to stop."

John sighed a breath of relief, and leaned back into Sherlock as he turned the telly off.

"Sherlock, I didn't see you. Why did you have to scare me like that? And I didn't expect you back for a while. I thought you'd be out merry making with your new case," John giggled.

"What, that case? Please. One of the easiest I've ever seen," Sherlock smirked down at John who was looking up at him, and took the opportunity to kiss the open-mouthed and smiling John on the lips.

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**A/N: Well, guys, one more day after this! I'll miss you all! I may or may not re-write a few of them (just because I'll miss you all so much!), review and let me know what you think, if you have any ideas, any you'd like me to see me do differently, etc., etc. **

**Keep Writing. XD**


	31. FamilyFriend Photos

**A/N: Well, guys, this is it. The last chapter. Special thanks to SherlockedSherlockian, who reviewed, I believe, every chapter, and was lovely to talk to. To thisisforyou, just because I love you, and you're that amazing. To my Onee-Chan, who inspired me to (or, really, made me ;) ) do this. And to each and every one of you that favourited, reviewed, followed, read, whatever. **

* * *

"Why do we have to do this?" Sherlock complained quietly.

"Because you're supposed to. It will be fun, Sherlock. Trust me," John answered, straightening Sherlock's suit jacket. "Come on," he said, and grabbed Sherlock's hand, dragging him over to where the others were gathered.

"Here, you stand next to Mycroft," John directed, speaking louder now.

"Must I, John?" Sherlock whined.

"Yes, now, you two, pretend like you like each other."

Mycroft and Sherlock in response gave very similar looks of exasperation, rolling their eyes and sighing, but moving closer together nonetheless.

"Mrs Hudson, you sit here," John said, helping her sit. "Harry, you come in close, and I'll stand between you and Sherlock."

And so, together the five gathered. Mycroft on the far right, Sherlock to his left, Harry farthest to the left, John to her right, and Mrs Hudson seated in the middle, in front of Sherlock and John.

"You all ready?" the man behind the camera asked.

"Yes," was John's quick reply, and all of them- even Sherlock- smiled for the shot.

The cameraman took a few pictures in quick succession, but suddenly Sherlock grinned slyly, and looked down at John.

He grabbed John by the collar, and leaned down for a kiss. Without thinking, John's hand found its way up to Sherlock's collar, and he kissed him back. Mycroft and Harry looked over their brothers at each other, and just raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "What can we do?", and Mrs Hudson just smiled and laughed.

The cameraman took one more shot, and that was that. But that year, that last picture was on the front of the Christmas card of every person present. Which was odd, because Mycroft and Sherlock were not ones to send out Christmas cards. And John was not one to have a joint Christmas cards with his "flatmate".

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**A/N: And there you have it. You know, I thought the last chapter was my favourite one. But now this one definitely is. You know, I really am sad to see this story go, but there are only 31 prompts. **

**Don't forget to review. This is your last chance, you know. ;) **

**Keep Writing. XD**


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